


Learning to Live

by awaytobeunshaken



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Angst, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 11:02:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14163423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awaytobeunshaken/pseuds/awaytobeunshaken
Summary: Every morning, Paul sings to Hugh.





	Learning to Live

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [I Cried to Dream Again](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13999143) by [NoahAndTheRain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoahAndTheRain/pseuds/NoahAndTheRain). 



> I need to give a shout out to NoahAndTheRain's fantastic "I Cried to Dream again", especially Chapter 6 which made this get in my head and not leave til I wrote it down.

Every morning,  while half lost in dreams, Paul has a moment where he doesn’t want to wake up.  Where he’d rather just lose himself in Hugh’s arms and forget anything else exists. Then he opens his eyes, and sees the empty space beside him, and remembers. And he realizes there’s no point in staying here alone.

Every morning, Paul sings to Hugh.  _ “Without you, the ground thaws, the rain falls, the grass grows...”  _ He can’t remember where he first heard the song, but it was quiet and peaceful and easy to listen to as he worked. He never paid much attention to the lyrics before, but they are clear in his mind when he receives Hugh’s medal, when he hears Hugh’s name at the ceremony. And every morning he sings.

_ “The stars gleam, the poets dream, the eagles fly...”  _ Paul puts on his uniform: clean shirt, trousers, jacket. He pauses to look at the row of medical whites hanging beside the blue. He could take new quarters, he could send the white uniforms back down to sickbay, but then Hugh would really be gone.

_ “The moon glows, the river flows, but I die, without you...”  _ Hugh’s voice joins in for the duet, as it does every morning as Paul tugs on his boots and starts the coffee.  _  “(The world revives) Colors renew, (But I know blue), only blue...”  _ And Hugh is right there, in the soft light that Paul remembers from the mycelial network, the day he said goodbye. But if that was goodbye, how can Paul hear his voice so clearly? How can he feel Hugh’s arms around him, pulling him close to dance?

_ “Life goes on, but I’m gone, cause I die, without you.”  _ And life does go on, even as Hugh’s form fades every morning when Paul leans in for a kiss at the end of the song. As he hurries past the door to sickbay, knowing there’s no reason for him to go in. As he stands at his post on the bridge, idly tracing the spore drive interface on his forearm. As he passes the spore chamber and remembers stepping inside, telling Hugh that he loves him and wondering if it will be the last time.

Paul always sings the same song. A song about love and loss. A duet. A song that Hugh joins him in every morning. Until the morning he doesn’t. “ _ The pulse beats...”  _ Silence. Paul takes a moment to remember the next lines. He shouldn’t have to. That’s Hugh’s part. “ _ Without you,”  _ Paul struggles to breathe, “ _ the eyes gaze, the legs walk, the lungs breathe...” _

_ “The mind churns, the heart yearns,”  _ Paul hears the pounding in his head as the harmony goes unsung, “ _ the tears dry...” _ and Paul’s tears flow. Yesterday he could hear Hugh’s voice as clearly as the day they met; he could see his smile and feel his hands on his back. Now the man in his memories is a ghost, and Paul isn’t sure he remembers how to be alone. 

He makes his bed for the first time in weeks. His chest tightens as he smooths the sheets on Hugh’s side. He removes the medical uniforms from their hangers, folds them neatly and lays them on the bed, letting his fingers linger on the fabric. He doesn’t have many personal items, but he packs up his uniforms, photographs, his own medal and Hugh’s. He hesitates as he runs his fingers over the pips on Hugh’s insignia, then drops it atop the pile of uniforms. He leaves the toothbrush; he can replicate another.

Finally he picks up his communicator and calls Saru. “Commander, I’d like to put in a request for new quarters.”

“Of course,” replies Saru, “but you are supposed to be on duty right now.”

Paul clenched his teeth. “I need to do this now. My things are by the door. Anything else can go to his family, or back to Starfleet.”

Paul knows he looks a mess when he walks into engineering. Most people have stopped eyeing him pityingly every time he walks in, but it happens today. He approaches the terminal that Tilly and Burnham are sharing.  “Anything new to report?”

“No, sir,” says Tilly, then lowers are voice, “only, you’re not usually late, and, well, you’ve been crying. Are you okay?” He’s seen that look before, in the mess hall months ago. She’s not going to back down.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “But I’m ready to find out if I’m going to be.”


End file.
